


Wilting Roses

by VirginiasWolf



Series: Life Moves On [30]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:20:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22747696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiasWolf/pseuds/VirginiasWolf
Summary: Valentine's Day 2020 does not go quite as Richard plans after an unpleasant ex-girlfriend of his interrupts dinner.Part of the Life Moves On series
Relationships: Camille Bordey/Richard Poole
Series: Life Moves On [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1456375
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	Wilting Roses

**Author's Note:**

> This took a little longer than expected because I went through several versions including one where Richard got bit by his own dog and ended up in the ER and another involving the walking haystack (who mercifully does not appear in this version of the fic but unfortunately my muse has decided to allow him to have bought the flat right next to Richard and Camille's and become the world's most annoying/awkward neighbor so he may pop up in some other stories). I still hate the last paragraph of this, but I wasn't sure where exactly to go with it.

If Richard is honest, he still hates Valentine's Day. It isn't that he hates the idea of love. In fact, if he'll admit that he's downright soft about the idea of trying to make sure his wife never doubts exactly how much he wants and needs her. It's the commercialism aspect that he hates about it. Yet, the love aspect always wins him over so every year he tries to do at least something to make Camille feel special. This year it's date night at an upscale restaurant while his parents watch the girls.

  
Across from him, Camille is smiling a silent almost mischevious smile which makes Richard nervous. "What?"

  
"Remember last year when you got me the rose?"

  
Of course, how could Richard forget that incident? The night before Valentine's Day, they had been helping Emily make homemade cards for her class and had run out of supplies. Richard had hastily dashed to the corner store for more macaroni noodles and glitter and decided to stop at the florist as well to purchase a single red rose with a message card attached to it. Instead of writing the card himself, Richard had dictated a message to the teenaged employee behind the counter. For this lapse of judgment, he had been left with one very angry wife who barely talked to him until he cleared things up nearly twenty-four hours later. "I believe I learned quite a lesson there. You had every reason to be upset with me."

  
"I should have realized that message did not sound like something you would say, but it did give me quite the interesting story to tell Maman once I realized that you had not actually intended to compare your love for me to a urinal." 

  
There is a bit of calming laughter in her voice, and Richard takes her hand across the table as he also descends into light chuckles. A year later they can both laugh about his horrible mishap, and tonight Richard is relieved to be able to spend his Valentine's Day with his favorite person even if the holiday itself is a commercialized mess.

  
Yes, tonight is going to be a good night. Tomorrow they will pick Emily and Rory up from his parents' house, but tonight is all about him and Camille. At least he assumes it will be until he hears a familiar voice. "Richard, is that you?"

  
From halfway across the restaurant a figure is fast approaching, giving Camille just enough time to shoot Richard a questioning glance and ask, "Richard, who is that?" before the other woman quite rudely pulls up a chair at their table. Instead of waiting for an answer she quietly mutters to herself, "I guess it doesn't matter." 

  
The woman is no stranger to Richard though. Allison Harris, an ex-girlfriend whom he would rather forget. She is a woman of many faults, the least of which is that her perception of reading body language makes Richard look like an avid student on the topic. The worst of which is how after several dates, including a truly traumatic one, she had broken up with him because she insisted her cats knew he was a bad man. He'd tried his hardest not to think about her in what had been longer than a decade, but there are still lasting traumas from the ordeal with her.

  
Now, he has to pretend to be polite while still trying to hint to her that she isn't exactly welcome here. "Allison, this is my wife Camille. Camille, this is Allison, an ex-girlfriend."

  
"I see." Camille raises an eyebrow at him across the table, clearly judging why he once dated a woman who is currently wearing a hand-knitted cat sweater.

  
Allison, not surprisingly doesn't pick up on the hint. Now Richard isn't sure exactly how to get rid of her without sounding rude, so he decides to try to drop a hint. "Are you here on a date?"

  
"Oh no, Lulu is very picky with men."

  
Richard is pretty sure that Lulu must be one of Allison's cats, either way, he doesn't actually care. He's almost certain that Camille doesn't care either, but he tries to shoot her a look of warning not to engage further or Allison will never leave their table. Unfortunately, perhaps out of some sick wifely attempt to torture him, that look goes unheeded.

"Lulu?" Camille asks making a quizzical expression that would be incredibly cute under other circumstances.

  
"Oh yes, Lulu is one of my cats. Would you like to see pictures of them?"

  
Richard can see the exact moment his wife's eyes go dead with resignation. It's far too late to back out now as Allison pulls a real photo album out of her purse despite it being 2020 when most people use phones.

  
Richard isn't sure how long he pretends to be amused for, but he knows the food on his plate has long since grown cold and Camille is wearing that look of fake patience that he thought was only reserved for him during the earliest days of working together.

  
Finally, he decides to do something drastic and stands up from the table. "Well, it's been lovely but I fear I need a cigarette."

  
For a second Camille looks as if she is about to point out that he doesn't smoke, which is absolutely true. He finds it to be a nasty habit that rots the breath and takes away any shred of attractiveness one might have, and since he finds himself to barely have any physically attractive qualities as it is, why would he kill his little graces with smoke? He has a plan to help also get Camille away from the table though.

  
After making his exit, he walks just far enough away that neither Camille or Allison can see him and stands for several minutes trying to ignore the awkward looks he is garnering from those around him. He does manage to snag the check from the waiter and pay for the meal though. After what feels like a reasonable amount of time he walks back towards the table, making a show of stuffing his phone back into his pocket. "Dear, that was Fidel on the phone. He says that Rory refuses to fall asleep and is throwing quite the tantrum. He said he hated to interrupt our dinner, but he doesn't think he'll be able to keep her overnight if this continues."

  
He's lucky that Camille immediately picks up on the message he is trying to convey by claiming their children are being watched by a man who is currently halfway around the world. In a matter of minutes they are back in the car and Richard lets out a breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding in. "I really am quite sorry about her. I don't know why she thought that behavior was remotely appropriate."

  
"So, were you also too boring for Lulu?" Camille teases from the passenger seat.

  
"I'm afraid she didn't have Lulu yet, but I was certainly too awful for her predecessors. Good riddance I say though. I may not have much to offer, but I'd like to believe I'm certainly more interesting than a cat. I don't even have to use a litter box to relieve myself." Richard has been so caught up in his rant and driving that he's almost forgotten he isn't alone until he risks a brief glance over to the passenger seat and finds Camille hopelessly lost in giggles.

  
After a few minutes, she manages to compose herself. "So, you are saying that I am quite lucky to have married a man who is toilet trained?"

  
Instead of becoming flustered, Richard manages to bite back with a witty retort. "Well, it certainly is quite a bonus."

  
"Is it now? Well, I do like a man in control of his functions." There's something strange and almost flirtatious about the tone she takes with her comment, but Richard finds himself instead focusing on how they have finally arrived at home.

  
He suddenly realizes that despite all his attempts at teasing he really isn't sure how to salvage tonight. It feels as if none of the Valentine's days after that first year have been truly special and he wanted tonight to really mean something if only to prove to Camille that she is still special to him. Instead, all he's given her is the knowledge that he is less entertaining than a cat, and something tells him that he hasn't even endured the worst of what tonight has to offer.

  
As if to remind him of this sad predicament, the boxes from the restaurant suddenly feel even colder in his hands. He must be wearing his disappointment openly because as Camille walks towards the kitchen she turns to look at him over her shoulder. "Do not be a sad Richard. I have you, and you have me. Tonight we do not need more than that."

  
"I wanted everything to turn out perfectly though," he shrugs trying to hide that he hasn't been reassured.

  
"Well, after we eat dinner you still have one more chance to make it right. We have the house entirely to ourselves and we should celebrate by making love to each other as loudly and passionately as possible."

  
Of course a French woman would think that passionate lovemaking could be comforting. It is reassuring that she still wants to make love to him after tonight's awkwardness though. He is also cheered by the prospect of sex. As much as he loves having long, intelligent conversations with Camille and watching the joy she takes in mothering their daughters he also loves knowing that his body, despite all its ugliness, is the one that brings so much pleasure to her body.

  
He still wants to do something to excite her mind. As soon as they make it into the kitchen he begins to look through the drawers for candles.

  
"Cherie, what are you doing?" Camille comes up behind him and wraps her arms around his waist.

  
"I wanted to find candles, but all we have are these." With an uncomfortable sigh Richard holds up the only candles he can find which are brightly colored birthday candles from Rory's birthday party only a few months earlier.

  
"Come eat dinner. We do not need candles." As Camille pulls away she takes his hand and he allows her to lead him back to the island.

  
"It was a little ridiculous of me to expect perfection, wasn't it?" Richard offers a wry half-smile as he looks at Camille across the countertop.

  
"Perfect is vastly overrated, Richard. Perfect is completely boring."

  
"Well, Camille sometimes perfect can be..." Richard cuts himself off mid-sentence when he realizes Camille is giving him one of those looks. Now is not the time to go on one of his passionate rants, especially if he still wants tonight to end with lovemaking. "I just feel as if I'm never quite doing enough to prove how much you mean to me. I want to make sure you feel as happy as you make me feel. Whenever I'm sad or scared I know that seeing your face will be enough to make me feel safe again and I can never quite figure out how to show that."

  
He has unintentionally been looking at his steak as he speaks, but when he looks up again Camille reaches across the counter to grab his hand. "I think you just did."

  
For the next several minutes they make small talk while continuing to eat until Camille stands up from the island and looks at him. "The dishes can wait until later. Maintenant, je veux que tu m'emmènes à l'étage et que tu me pénètresavec ta grosse bite anglaise."

  
Richard finds himself blushing for a moment as he holds her in his arms. "You have far too filthy of a mouth for someone so beautiful."

  
"And you love it. Now take me upstairs before I have to repeat all of that in English." Camille pulls away from him with a playful spring in her step and begins to walk towards the stairs leaving Richard to catch up with her. 

  
He's probably far too old to be engaging in this kind of behavior, but right now all he cares about is watching the way Camille's hips move in the tight black dress she is wearing. He manages to catch her just outside of their bedroom and pulls her body to his as he kisses her neck.

  
In response, Camille moans in delight as she runs her hands down his sides before reaching for his belt buckle.

  
Realizing what she is trying to do, Richard pulls away. "You know I'm too old to do this standing up."

  
"A real pity." Camille pretends to pout, but soon she is taking his hand and leading him into the bedroom.

  
Richard pauses for a moment intending to close the door before deciding against it. They're alone in the flat and he really does want to actually begin making love to his wife.

  
He's done this to her countless times before, but he still finds himself amazed by the silky smoothness of her skin and the way her body melds with his. As he thrusts into her she throws her legs over his so that their bodies are fully connected.

  
Camille also wastes no time in vocalizing her pleasure and trying to move her own body in ways that encourage him to do the same. A feeling washes over Richard that this is exactly where he is supposed to be and he can't help but smile as they climax in unison. "I love you, Camille." Richard leans down to gently brush a strand of loose hair away from his wife's face before stealing a lingering kiss.

  
Once it is finished she looks up at him, her eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. "Et je vous aime, ma chère." 

  
After a moment Camille allows her legs to fall from his which gives Richard the chance to roll over onto the mattress. Almost immediately she snuggles against his chest before shivering audibly. 

  
"Why don't we crawl under the covers?" Richard manages to pull the covers back on the bed and after they have crawled under them Camille immediately resumes her snuggling. She's so content with him that Richard feels safe confessing something. "Can I confess something to you?"

  
"Am I going to be angered by this confession?" Camille pulls away from him and props her head on her chin.

  
"I don't believe so. It's about earlier tonight." This admission does nothing to soothe the potentially raging torrent that could become Hurricane Camille. "It isn't what you're probably thinking it is. I want to be more honest about my breakup with Allison. I hadn't wanted to admit earlier how traumatic it actually was for me. I tried to play it off as something comical, but the truth is that I almost died."

  
Camille seems to have calmed down a bit, but Richard quickly realizes that by her next comment she has interpreted his words wrong. "She broke your heart?"

  
"No, her cat attacked me and the resulting infection nearly caused sepsis, and while I was in the hospital recovering she broke up with me because she insisted her cat knew that I was an evil man who was likely to cheat on her. I've tried to think about her as little as possible in the time since then but seeing her tonight just terrified me. I couldn't help but think about how disposable I'd been to her, even when I was gravely ill and I just developed this sudden fear that if I wasn't able to do something grand tonight I'd just become disposable to you as well."

  
Richard gets so caught up in his inane ramblings that he initially doesn't realize that Camille has nestled back against him. "Oh, Richard." Her hand reaches up to stroke his cheek. "People like her don't deserve your presence anyway, and you will never become disposable to me."

  
"Really?" Richard hates how belatedly hopeful he sounds.

  
"Yes, really." After a few seconds, Camille stretches to steal a kiss. "Now it is time to go to sleep. I would like to get in one more session with this before we pick the girls up tomorrow." Her hand slides dangerously close to a certain body as she speaks and Richard involuntarily shudders before trying to gently push her hand away.

  
"Camille, if you really are honest about this I encourage you to stop, otherwise there will not be any sleep."

**Author's Note:**

> BTW in case you are wondering what exactly the card from Valentine's Day 2019 said, it was supposed to say "My love for you is eternal my dearest Camille." the florist wrote "My love for you is a urinal my dearest Camille." Richard has since learned his lesson to always write out any sort of message himself.
> 
> First French phrase is literally dirty talk so put it through a translator yourself if you want to know what it is in English (I used Yandex btw...it seems to work better than Google translate)
> 
> Et je vous aime, ma chère.: And I love you, my dear.


End file.
